


The Art of Punching Things

by MinMaxSpeech



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Amara Punches Stuff, F/F, Flirting, Moze Watches, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-24 21:13:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21344788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MinMaxSpeech/pseuds/MinMaxSpeech
Summary: There are many things that Moze enjoys. Killing bandits, helping the innocents of the galazy, and watching her Siren girlfriend work out and punch stuff.
Relationships: Amara/Moze (Borderlands)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 44





	The Art of Punching Things

Fists slammed against the heavy, sand-filled bag within one of the Vault Hunters’ dormitories. Every punch created a dull, heavy thud with each blow. The woman striking the bag, Amara, had sweat streaking down her body, her hands aching more and more as each strike lands against the heavy punching bag. A variety of scars dotted across her hands, the knuckles on her fist in particular from years of fights, brawls, and battles. For some, those scars would be seen as blemishes, as markings from things that should never have happened. For Amara, however, her scars were like a badge of honour. A way of showing all of the things she had survived, the things she had beaten, the people she had saved. Perhaps Amara was crazy for believing in that logic, but any person that would willingly stare down an exceptionally dangerous Vault monster and then punch it in the face would likely not be wholly sane.

Amara’s hair, ordinarily allowed to flow freely over the Siren’s face, had been pulled back into a tight ponytail. It was something Amara simply did out of habit, every time she trained she would tie her hair back, in spite of being more than used to seeing past the hair that would occasionally fall in front of her eyes. Every blow that Amara struck against the bag came faster and harder than the last, the woman slowly becoming a blur of strikes and power, with a skill in striking unmatched by any in the crimson raiders. Amara was unique among Sirens for many reasons. One of the most immediately obvious ones being her tattoos, glowing with whatever element that the Tiger chose to use to crush her enemies.

Another was the fact that she chose to crush her enemies at all. Most Sirens, from what Amara had heard, preferred avoiding close combat, fighting at range with sniper rifles and elemental damage. While Amara loved using fire, radiation, shock, corrosive and cryo, she preferred rushing into combat, and beating her opponents down with incredible abilities. It was why Amara worked as hard as she did to remain in peak physical shape. Well, one of them.

“Holy shit…” A woman spoke from the doorway- that was the other reason. Amara hadn’t even heard the door open over her fists slamming against the heavy bag, her muscles rippling beneath her dark skin as every blow both hurt and strengthened her more and more.   
“Hello, my dear.” Amara spoke each word between a strike, sweat visibly dripping down her body as she did so, courtesy of the intensity of her workouts. The Siren smiled at the sight of her girlfriend, turning to face Moze as she swung one final time, the heavy bag swinging from the force of the blow.   
“Hi…” Moze spoke after a moment, distracted from watching the muscular Siren.   
“Are you here for any specific reason, my dear, or are you simply enjoying the show?”  
“Uhm… does wanting to spend time with you count as a specific reason?” Moze shrugged, her face a bright crimson.   
“Yes, it does.” Amara smiled.  
“Then I’m here for both reasons.” Moze grinned, sitting upon their bed. Amara and Moze had agreed to share a bedroom together on the Sanctuary-3, to give Fl4k and Zane the ability to have rooms for themselves. They had doubted that Zane would want to spend his free time around Fl4k’s pets, and Fl4k would likely attempt to murder the Irishman if they had to spend significant time around him.

Moze and Amara, on the other hand, greatly enjoyed spending time with one another. For a while, the two were friends, simply sharing a bedroom, but had quickly evolved to be a couple, through awkward flirting and Amara picking up on Moze eagerly watching her every time she worked out. It seemed to be the Gunner’s favourite pastime, watching Amara stay in shape… And Amara was more than happy to provide a show for her girlfriend.   
“What have you been up to, my dear?” Amara inquired of Moze, picking up a towel off the floor, and beginning to clean the sweat off her body.  
“Mostly just been tinkering with Iron Bear. Trying to figure out a way to make the fuel consumption less intensive with the RPG.” Moze shrugged, watching Amara’s every movement attentively.  
“Was it successful?”  
“No, not yet. I think I’m close to… something. It’s just a lot of trial-and-error at this point.”   
“Makes sense.” Amara nodded, throwing the towel at their wash-basket with practiced precision, before leaning back against the heavy bag. 

Amara looked over Moze, and noticed that her right hand was covered in bandages.   
“What happened there?” Amara pointed to the aforementioned hand.  
“Oh… that. Part of Iron Bear… kinda exploded on my hand?” Moze shrugged, glancing down to the tightly-wrapped hand with a shake of the head. “It’s why I had to stop.”  
“Please tell me you’ve been to Tannis, at least.” Amara spoke, worry lacing her tone.   
“Of course. You’d have dragged me there regardless, so I just get it out of the way.” Moze shrugged. She didn’t like having to visit Tannis, the woman’s erratic mannerisms were hard for the Gunner to completely grow used to, and she preferred to just give her a wide berth, instead. It was simpler and happier for both parties, thanks to Tannis’ abhorrence for social interactions with anyone but Lilith, Maya, Ava, or, bizarrely, Zer0.   
“I only do that because I care about you.” Amara smiled warmly at her partner.  
“I know that.” Moze returned the gesture, “But that doesn’t mean I have to like spending time around a woman that sees me as a waste of space because I don’t have magic goddamn tattoos.”   
“I’m not saying you do,” Amara laughed, “I just don’t want to see you hurt, and I would rather you be around a woman that’s indifferent to you for a little while than I would see you lose a hand, or something.”  
“Worst case, you still have enough of those that if it does go, we’ll still have enough to go around.” Moze joked, a quiet chuckle leaving her lips. 

Amara thought Moze’s laugh was possibly the most beautiful sound in the universe, hearing her partner laugh always brought a grin to her face. The only things that surpassed Moze’s laugher for things that Amara loved about her were the young soldier’s own sense of wit, and the sounds she made in the bedroom. Amara wondered if she loved them as much because she was one of the only people left alive in the universe that had heard such a beautiful thing.   
“Amara…?” Moze spoke quietly.  
“Yes, my dear?”   
“Wanna train together for a bit?”  
“You just want to see me punching things again, don’t you?” Amara laughed.  
“Am I that obvious?” Moze grinned. Amara shook her head slowly, the smile on her face revealing her true emotions, however, before slamming her fist into the bag yet again.


End file.
